


This Is Me Trying (And Maybe I Don't Quite Know What To Say)

by aphroditeversus



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, No Smut, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, i condemn kanej smut there's no reason it should exist, i just wrote this for the sake of writing leave me alone, it's a drabble i've been trying to write for months, some hand holding ensues, the final goodbye, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29643348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphroditeversus/pseuds/aphroditeversus
Summary: Kaz and Inej spend the night together before she embarks on her journey.
Relationships: Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 24
Kudos: 98





	This Is Me Trying (And Maybe I Don't Quite Know What To Say)

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah the title is the Taylor Swift song. And what about it.
> 
> I really hope whoever reads this, likes it. It's not my favorite piece of work, but it does include some stuff I'm pretty proud of writing. I just really wanted to write something about Kanej that showcases intimacy, without it being about sex, because one quick look at their tag here is full of all that, and... Nope. Not liking this much.
> 
> I don't know if I achieved it. In the end it was all about writing for my fav fictional couple.
> 
> Enjoy the read, and don't be too harsh on me. Me and writing have had a very complicated relationship as of late.

Kaz senses her before he sees her. 

Not that there's any surprise about that. It's just wondrous how she manages to be completely silent even after scaling a four story building. One would think she would leave out the slightest heave, or let her breath shake from exertion, but apparently, not even noise can find you when you're The Wraith.

He senses her, and yet he doesn't show it. He remains seated at his desk, hunched over it, eyes on the ledger that's been troubling him the past week.

Things have been awfully quiet lately. Van Eck is in prison, awaiting trial, Pekka Rollins is on the run like a dog chasing away an intruder, and Ketterdam is still recovering from the plague threat Nina brought unto them. The lack of tourists has slowed down gang activity so much, that barely any gunshots are heard in the middle of the night. It’s striking. Kaz considers it a great opportunity to bounce back and gather his group, make his investments, but it's rather boring when there's nothing threatening your place up the food chain. All he has to deal with now are minor thefts and petty bluster among the Dregs that remain.

The lack of traffic in the Slat is striking, too. Barely a month ago it was bursting with life. Kaz never cared so much about the buzzing of the voices, or the people coming and going. If anything it was tiring at times, but it represented the fact that there was business to be done. Issues to be resolved. Now everything is stagnant.

He feels a gush of air woosh past his ears, raising the hairs on the back of his head just so slightly. Inej makes herself comfortable on his window's ledge. 

He thinks about stealing a glance.

He furrows his brows instead.

It's minutes past sunset now. The room is colored in moody pinks and oranges, darkening the more time that passes. Kaz struggles to make out the numbers on the page in front of him. 

That means he can't ignore Inej much longer.

He steals that glance now, his head barely turning. She's rested her back against the frame, knees folded to her chest, hugged by her slender arms. She's focused her gaze outside, and it's like the world around her could never distract her from whatever it is she's thinking about. A tiny smile tugs at her lips, and as if in slow motion, she lets her head fall back slowly, inch by inch, till it finds the window panel.

Kaz studies her. She sighs, and her eyelids drop shut.

"Going to miss the view?" he asks. He goes back to looking at his desk. When he hears no reply, he spares one quick look at her, just to double-check that she heard him, even though he knows he doesn’t need to repeat himself. He finds that her eyes are still closed, but the smile is now a thing of the past.

"I'm sure I'll eventually get sick of pretty-colored dusks and dawns once aboard the ship," Inej says eventually.

Kaz’s heart flutters in his chest. He hates it.

He hates how attuned he always is to her presence. How the noise in his brain seems to quiet down a notch just by taking one look at her. How calm she makes him feel.

If he’s good enough at convincing himself he truly does hate all that, it might actually come true, and the ache in his heart might subside the morning after, when Inej becomes a weightless dot in the vast sea.

"One who loves the sky would beg to differ," he replies. He pushes his chair back, winces at the screech it makes, and stretches his bad leg. Ketterdam's weather has been particularly indecisive with the temperature, and Kaz can feel every fluctuation with a searing pain deep in his knee. He curses under his breath. He isn't spending so much time away from action just for his leg to sting like crazy the minute he takes one step down the stairs.

"Do you think it'll be hard to adjust to life at sea?"

Kaz fiddles with the papers on his desk. "For you?" He asks, and glances at her again. He allows himself more than just a spare few seconds of admiration, forcing his brain to imprint that image of her sitting on that ledge as she talks to him. That spot has become hers, no doubt. And yet every time she’s perched there, she’s woefully unaware that she's the very image of serenity and content. "It will be a kid's game."

A smile at her end. Her eyes snap open, but she turns to look outside again. 

She didn't coil her braid at the nape of her neck, he notices. It falls loosely over one shoulder, her fingers playing with it absent-mindedly. 

A new flutter in Kaz's chest. She holds his heart in the palms of her two hands, and it terrifies him, but not as much as he’d thought.

"If you do happen to struggle with it, though,” he adds, “it's one more reason not to leave this stinking, old city behind for good."

"One  _ more _ reason?"

"No point in speaking the other when we're both acutely aware of it."

Their gazes meet for the first time tonight. Inej's eyes glimmer in the dimming light as they pierce into Kaz’s. Her features are washed over by perplexion.

He fights back a smirk. He’s probably doing a bad job at it.

"The crows," he says. "Someone has to feed them, or they'll feed on me."

A laugh escapes from Inej's lips. Kaz no longer fights the smile. The world feels less unjust the moment Inej laughs.

"I've already told you I'll come back, Kaz."

"It's not too bad to have something tethering you here."

Inej thinks about it. "Or someone." She adds.

If Kaz was an honorable young boy, raised in Ketterdam's best and high-collared neighborhoods, he'd blush. But that innocence and that child-like excitement of talking to someone who's captured your interest, is now long gone. It was dropped at the bottom of the Reaper's Barge. He scattered pieces of it in every dark and grim corner of the Barrel, after every head he bashed in and eye he gouged out.

He can't avoid the traitorous lurch in his stomach, though.

"Or someone." He repeats.

It's eerily quiet outside. It's incredible how much of the Ketterdam buzz comes from its tourism, and that if you take that away it's left with nothing but rich men making their way home to their bored wife and their screaming children, and Barrel thugs who hide in the shadows now more than ever before.

But it’s quiet in here, too. It feels as though every time someone speaks, they break the enticing spell which binds Kaz to Inej and enhances the tension between them.

"You sail at dawn?" Kaz asks, just to say something. His arms cross to his chest, shirt tightening around his back.

Inej nods. "I'll go back to the house first, to pick up the last of my stuff, say goodbye to Jesper and Wylan."

"Where to?"

Inej blinks.

"First, I mean."

"Novyi Zem," she replies. We heard on the vine of a crew waiting for things here to get back to normal so they can arrange an auction for Zemeni girls. Must be two or three slavers waiting on the Weddle docks."

"Hiding in plain sight."

"Why would you hide, if the economy moving the strings of the world fully endorses what you're doing?"

Kaz sighs. A beat passes before he speaks. "I hope your Saints approve of the bloodshed you're about to embark on."

"Who says I'll kill them?"

"I, for one, would certainly not let them live."

Inej lets out a laugh. "Well from the two of us, which has morals, and which does not?"

"Is there room for morals when you're dealing with slave traders?"

"I never said there was."

"So you will kill them, then."

Inej presses her lips into a line. "I don't know yet, if I'm honest." She smirks. "I was kind of thinking about torturing them."

Kaz lets out a fake gasp. He raises a brow. "My dear Inej. And here I was, thinking I'd never hear those naughty words come out of your mouth."

She actually blushes at that. A rare sight. 

Who would’ve thought that Kaz would manage to tease her without outright insulting her.

He smiles widely and uncrosses his arms. He then makes the effort to stand, cursing at his knee again. Inej's stare almost feels scorching hot on his back, as she follows his limping to the back of the room. His fingers swiftly move over the buttons of his vest, and he discards it over a chair.

He knows that if he turns now, he will indeed cross eyes with Inej. He knows. He doesn't care about what it means, he can't bear to think about it. He just allows himself to relish in that knowledge for half a moment, before proceeding with the unbuttoning of his shirt.

And then he sneaks a look over his shoulder. His gaze finds Inej. And his eyes are quick to catch the way Inej is focused on the way Kaz's fingers hover over his shirt buttons. It's there for the slightest beat, he'd miss it if he didn't know where to look, if he didn't know in general. And then it's gone, and Inej stares at the wooden floor, before smoothly spinning on her seat and dangling her legs out of the open window so her eyes can now be locked on the sea molding perfectly with the dark of the sky up above.

He's a fool for letting his breath catch, he's a fool for almost feeling flustered over how Inej was looking at him, as if she's never seen him undress before, as if unbuttoning a garment of clothing is the most intimate and innermost gesture.

He's a fool for still having a heart disposable for fluttering in his chest like he's a schoolboy, as though it doesn't know the waters that will choke him the moment he follows a foreign instinct and reaches for her touch.

And yet, he can’t help it.

He lets his shirt slide down his shoulders nonetheless. Inej is less unnerving when her back is turned to him.

He sinks his hands in the basin full of water that he filled earlier and placed on the far-end table in the corner of his room. He moves his hands over his arms, shivering from the sudden chill, and then he wets his chest and shoulders too.

"You should get going," Kaz says, because he knows he should, even though he wishes everything but, "if you hope to get some rest before you leave." And it's like he can immediately feel Inej giving him the cold shoulder.

He aknowledges the shake of her head. "Jesper is still at his second drink at this time and he won't sleep till he's finished his third, and sung a good dozen of Novyi Zem's folk rhymes. Unless Wylan drags him away from his seat, of course."

"Your evenings in the house sound fascinating."

Inej's back moves with a sigh. "They remind me of home. Oddly enough."

Kaz knows what she's thinking about. She knows because he’s thinking the same.

The morning at the docks. The salt of the sea. A looking glass, pointed at berth twenty three. Inej's bliss making the sun shine warmer. A touch of two hands.

And then her parents. Her anticipation to greet them, her nerves, and later on her tears when she finally does.

It must feel good, knowing that you have someone waiting for you. Someone who will cry when they see you again. A family that's still held together tightly, far from the memories of high fever and bloated flesh.

Kaz hoped for it years ago. A family. He missed it, and drove himself out of his mind from anger about it being stolen from him. He blamed himself for not stopping it. Not being better, or quicker to his senses, or mature enough. And when the blaming stopped, his chest was hollow, and he felt free.

But Inej is not Kaz. She never let herself forget who she was before Ketterdam. She had that dusty, webbed version of herself tucked neatly in some corner of her heart, close enough to the surface so she doesn't let it fade away but far enough so the harshness of this city doesn't roughen that, too. 

Kaz is well aware of all this. He's spent years observing her from afar, understanding her little by little. He's teased her endlessly for holding on to her faith and her Saints even though she could hardly call herself holy anymore. He knows Inej needed the link between herself and her family to be reattached. She needed to know they were alive, that so was their memory of her.

So he did that. For her. Hoping that he wasn't crossing any lines he was too blind to see.

It was an apology, and a thank you card, for keeping up with him through the worst, and staying alive despite almost crossing death's threshold multiple times. A small push to help her leave the darkest memories of Ketterdam behind to make room for fresh ones.

"Will you go back to them?" he asks.

Inej's hair gleams in the night light. Kaz imagines it brushing his palm.

She faces him, doing another spin on the window panel. "I will. When I'm ready to."

"What is it that you fear?"

"Ravka," she responds. "When they took me, its wounds were still fresh from the war. They’re not healed entirely now, either. I'm worried about my family, and I'm worried about what's left of our people, and it's been too long, and I'm not the same person I was all these years ago, and..."

Inej hides her face in her hands, sighing.

Kaz finishes up with the water and reaches for a towel. He dries his shoulders hurriedly before retrieving his shirt to put it back on. He walks toward her, and stops to sit on his bed, always maintaining a safe amount of distance because he's Kaz, and she's Inej, and he might have asked the wrong thing just now.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me." Her hands move from her face to tug at the ends of her hair again, causing it to shine pure silver as they move at the nape of her neck.

"It wasn’t the smartest question."

“It’s just…” Kaz sees her pondering. “It’s a lot to handle when you actually see the people you've longed to see for years. It sure feels great, and it's a relief, but how do you explain yourself to them? How do you help them see the person you've grown to become, when they've missed every step of said growing?"

"They may be dwelling on the same thing."

"It doesn't stop me from dwelling on it myself."

Kaz says nothing, only looks at her with intent. There's fire in her eyes, and fear, and Kaz wishes he could be good with words for once, and wipe all of her unease away. But he doesn't know what’s the right thing to say. He never does.

Inej senses him look, and so she looks back at him too.

Can words be transferred with the eyes? Can they transcend the waves of sound between them, and be etched in her brain so that she knows he wants her to be okay?

Inej presses her lips into a line. The silence between them is echoing before she breaks it.

"I should be on my way then," she says, hands gripping the panel. "It will be a long couple of weeks."

Words can’t be communicated that way, then. Kaz utterly failed at that.

He doesn't want her to leave. Technically he is the one who practically kicked her out mere minutes ago, but he knows for a fact he doesn't want her to leave.

Who knows when he'll see her again? Who knows what she will have seen by then? The people she will come across, the criminals and pimps whose lives she'll drain from their bodies without mercy?

And who can guarantee that she'll still want to see him when she's back? He had her say she won't leave Ketterdam behind plenty of times, he's well aware, but coming back and coming back  _ to him _ are two entirely different things, and it's painful to admit he aches for the latter.

"Stay," a voice coming from a peculiar, vacant place in his chest says.

Inej stares at him incredulously.

"Stay the night. You can leave before dawn, to have enough time to go back to the house before sailing."

She furrows her brow. Her mouth hangs in surprise, and she's about to say something when he cuts her.

"Or you can leave, if your schedule is set. Do not disrupt it."

Kaz's heart is racing in his chest. His ears are buzzing, and it's ridiculous, because he barely did anything, he just said words he didn't know he had the capacity to put together in that order.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor, Kaz," she says eventually. The edges of her lips are upturned, like she's about to laugh.

"I didn't mean the floor."

"What did you mean, then?"

Kaz is rooted to his seat. Movement is evading his capabilities. Words are dying in his chest. He feels anxious, and exposed, and he hates it, but it's only Inej, and Inej never equals harm.

He musters up the courage to slide toward the foot of his bed, making room for her. He's insane, he's clearly fucking insane, because that's a tiny bed he has, and if Kaz can't bear the touch of skin with his ungloved hands once, he can't bear it a thousand times with Inej. Not when she sets his soul alight with nothing but a bat of her eyelashes, when she has him wishing his trauma away so he could stand being close to her. But he does it anyway, because he knows he'll regret it if he doesn’t, even though Kaz is not the kind of person to regret anything.

Inej hesitates, looks around the room, then back at Kaz, then down to her feet, and up to Kaz again.

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to do anything."

"I know."

"Then you know I'm serious." 

_ And scared as fuck. _

She softly sets her feet down at the floor and stands, wiping her palms on her pants. As she approaches Kaz, and then proceeds to move past him headed to the other side of his bed, Kaz can see she's flushed.

The mattress barely dips under the weight of her body as she sits, and he can feel her lay down soundlessly on her side. With the slightest turn of his head, he finds that her back is on him, and she's facing the wall.

He lies down too, them now laying back to back, and Kaz is astounded to find out that the proximity of their bodies does not intimidate him as much as he expected.

They fall into silence again, neither moving, as though waiting for the other to give in first.

Kaz is the one who moves first. He turns on his left side, slowly so as his bad leg doesn't make him wince in pain, and tucks an arm under his head. Now he's facing Inej's back, and he takes a notice of her braid, spilling onto the mattress. Her legs are curled. She's laying as close to the edge of the bed as possible, evidently trying to take up only the tiniest sliver of space. Given the size of the bed, even with Inej about to fall off, she's still rather close to him. The slightest move of either of them will have their bodies curving into one another.

That's terrifying. Dangerous. Kaz feels beads of cold sweat trickling down his temples. Yet he stays there, unmoving. Fighting through his better instincts. 

It's only Inej, after all. 

Kaz and her have been in worse situations together. 

It's fine. Everything is fine. 

The waters are yet to rise and flood every corner of his brain. 

He's doing okay.

He wants to play with her hair. It's a stupid impulse, with unknown origins, but he wants to.

He has to know what it feels like. That godforsaken braid. If it's silky soft. If it would be comforting to remove the ribbon tying it together, run his fingers through it and untangle it.

He doesn't know if he will overstep, or if he'll make her flinch despite his best intentions. It's just all he's thinking about. And it sort of helps him focus. If Kaz is thinking about Inej's hair then he's not thinking about the proximity (or lack thereof) of her skin to his, and he therefore does not panic.

His fingers twitch on the hand resting at his side. And then he's moving it. And his fingertips are met with braided strands of hair. Inej must not feel it, because he barely touched them, but she surely must feel it when he lifts it slightly and twists it between his fingers.

Verdict? Soft. He was right. And it's like his hand is covered in glittering black as he holds it.

Kaz is afraid to breathe too loud. He might disturb the moment. His brain might jerk to life and realize he's crossing into dangerous territory, and he'd hate that. Once the dread sets in, he'll have no option but to run to the furthest corner of the room and curl into himself until the memories of rotten, slippery flesh stop suffocating him.

He doesn't want to run away from her like this. Not when he'll go so long without seeing her. Not when all she deserves is someone who'll hold her and be close to her without flinching at the thought.

He hopes Inej is asleep. That way she'll have escaped the crackling tension separating them, and Kaz's careful bravery.

But the world is never that kind. Just as Kaz ponders that probability, the bed creaks, and Inej turns, and Kaz doesn't know what to do with his hand because now they're face to face and Inej's wide, curious eyes are staring right into his soul.

He settles for tucking that hand under his head as well. He almost blushes. Almost.

He holds Inej's stare. It feels rather intimate, and Kaz's brain instructs him to get away from her, to run, but his heart begs him to stay, whatever the cost. Even if disgust starts pooling in.

So he does something. Before he thinks about it too hard and ruins it.

His hand is retrieved from where it rested. It's left hovering in the inches between them before he moves it.

And then he grazes Inej's upper arm. That narrow space between her waistcoat and her armband left uncovered. His fingertips burn with the sensation, and it won't be long before he’ll feel like puking, but he doesn't stop. He holds his hand there, until hopefully his skin won't turn with the touch of hers.

Inej's eyes go nowhere, still deep into his, and she shivers, tiny bumps raising down the length of her arm. It's getting harder and harder to breathe, the air feels tight in Kaz's throat. He presses his lips together, sighing. Looking at her makes it even harder.

Inej jerks her arm away, so Kaz's hand is no longer on her. He feels guilty, but also thankful. He can only push himself this far.

"How does it feel?" she asks, her voice a breathless whisper. Kaz gulps down the aching lump in his throat before replying.

"Like I'm drowning."

"Were you drowning that night?"

He despises the vulnerability he feels. It chokes him. It's worse than human contact, and being vulnerable is something you cannot afford to be in the Barrel. Enemies can see right through you, immobilize you, tear you apart piece by piece with just one word.

But it's only Inej, he keeps reminding himself. Only Inej. She'd never use anything against him, never betray his trust. Inej is like that.

A nod is all he can offer in response.

"Why do you keep asking me to be close if you know it will hurt?"

_ I don't want it to hurt anymore. _

"You'd said you'll have me without armor, or you will not have me at all."

Inej blinks.

"I can't do without armor."

There's an apology in his eyes. He wills Inej to see it, to accept it. It's more than he is able to give voice to.

"All I’d asked is you try."

"You think I don't?"

"I never know what I think, whenever you’re concerned."

"And I never know what to do. To make  _ it _ go away. Or make it better" Kaz's voice is rough at the back of his throat.

Inej says nothing. She turns to lie on her back, hands folded on her stomach, knees bent so her feet are planted on the bed.

"All I know is--" His head is spinning. "I like having you around. And I'll have to get used to your absence, even though I’ll hate it."

I f she's trying to hold a smile back, Kaz isn't sure.

"Is that your way of telling me you'll miss me?" she asks. 

“It’s my way of asking you to come back to me.”

It hurts to look at her. It hurts to acknowledge the hope in her eyes. Kaz wills his head to stop spinning long enough so he can reach for Inej’s hand and hold it, right there as it rests under her chest. He suppresses the memories, the water, the smell of death, and his fingers curl into hers for one moment, and the moment after that, till it's less than plain torture.

She offers him a smile, squeezing his hand just barely. “I wouldn’t come back for any other reason than you.”

And there it is. Her promise. The one he craved, to be instantly put at ease. It floats between them, in its own little bubble, and Kaz is afraid he’ll burst it if he speaks, so he says nothing at all.

All he does is study her. The flutter of her eyelids, as they fall shut. The ghost of a smile on her lips. The smoothness of her skin, the curve of her nose, the flyaway hairs framing her face. He focuses on the rhythmic breathing moving her stomach up and down underneath his fingers, and the more time that passes, her hold on him weakens more and more, and her breaths even out as sleep overtakes her senses.

He stays there, watching her, for what feels like an eternity. Without moving, or quite frankly, wishing to move, either. 

She looks really peaceful when she sleeps. It's mesmerizing. He’s shocked he hasn’t observed of that before, even though he’s had to wake her up for missions plenty of times before. He thinks that if he were to make a list of all things good about this world, Inej sleeping would be right on the top, along with the sound of her laughter.

He doesn't even notice when his eyes feel heavy. He welcomes it. All discomfort caused by Inej's fingers intertwined with his own is now long gone.

Before he's out, he whispers. If one asked him, he wouldn't be able to confirm whether he said those words aloud or not.

"Of course I'll miss you, Inej. My life found substance when you were brought in it."

~

Kaz dreams of the sea, and a boat, with a dark haired girl perched upon its bow. Her eyes find his, and she smiles, her skin golden under the sunlight.

The last time he remembers dreams visiting his sleep, before tonight, was when Jordie was still alive.

~

Kaz's whole body aches. 

He wakes up to realize he did not move all night, and the nerves on the arm under his head buzz in complaint. He forces his eyes open, squinting at the light, and all he's looking at is the vacant half of his bed.

Inej is gone. And Kaz didn't even sense it when she left. She didn’t even let him know, either.

He sits up, stretching out his limbs and straightening his back. With the way the sun enters the room, it must be well past eight bells.

He should be cursing right now, at how late he woke up, but all he feels is sadness, because he didn’t have time to tell her a proper goodbye.

He wills himself up and limps across the room to splash some water on his face. He reaches for a towel, wipes his face dry. Changes out of his pants, slipping on some new ones he grabbed from the narrow closet in the corner. As he buttons up his vest, and walks to his desk to pick up his pocket watch, there sits a note, written in loopy handwriting.

_ I'll have you in any way you can stand. I'll have you with the cracks in your armor, and I'll have you if that armor wears down and comes apart. _

_ Until then, I'll miss you too. _

He holds the note in his hands. He drags a finger over the ink, feeling the markings where the pen met the paper. He folds it into a square, tucks it away into one of his drawers. He ignores the buzzing in his head, and the nonstop swirl of Inej’s words, coming and going, and tugging at his heart.

Kaz hurries his coat on, and his gloves, and goes about his day, avoiding everything Inej, because everytime he is reminded of the contents of the folded paper his stomach lurches in ways he doesn't want to interpret.

And then when it's dark again, and the city has quieted down, Kaz pulls out that note, reads it again and again and again, even though he's memorized it well enough by now.

He stares out the window, into the black sea. It's windy tonight, he can hear the crash of the waves into the docks without much effort.

He imagines Inej out there, aboard The Wraith, rocked back and forth by the menacing waves, saltwater spraying on her, curling her hair into unruly waves.

If he were religious, he'd pray for her safe return.

But he's not. Inej is the religious of the bunch.

So he sleeps, thinking about her hand in his and visualising her to his side, already counting down to the day the sea brings her back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this. Every hit contributes to my fragile writer ego so if you read this know that I love you.
> 
> If you wanna boost my ego further in a non-comment or kudo form, find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sevenhusband) and [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aphroditeversus) even though I only ever go to tumblr for the gifs.
> 
> Thank you again. I hope I write again soon.


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